


Bells

by nct_loveclub



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Jisung is a softie, M/M, So is chenle, Something short to put you in your uwus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:34:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nct_loveclub/pseuds/nct_loveclub
Summary: Chenle’s lips curl upwards once more as he draws back from the hug and sets his book onto the table alongside his bed. He gives a hearty laugh, one that’s big and bright, almost like a dolphin. All I could hear as the boy laughs at my, apparently hilarious, teasing, is the chime of bells. Almost like church bells on a Sunday morning, almost like the bell of a cat collar or sleigh bells. Whatever one could call it, it was a mix of all and it was the most beautiful laugh to ever reach my ears.





	Bells

**Author's Note:**

> I got a short story prompt in my english class and, well, this happened

Pulling a black cap over my dyed blonde hair, I grab a small bag full of baked treats and head out the door. The busy streets, the bustling city, the rumble of engines and honks of horns piercing the air as I walk down the city walkways. Almost there, I think to myself as I round one more street corner. There it was, big and vast, in your face and asking for your residency, Seoul National University Hospital. I suck in a breath before walking up to the entrance, shaky and unsteady, yet calm and secure. Striding on hesitant feet, I find the reception desk and pull out a student id card, handing it over to the lady behind the desk.

  
“Aren’t you a little young to be coming here alone?” Waking from my haze, I look at the woman who spoke, questioning her with my eyes. She looked to be in her late twenties, though she could be older.

  
“Oh, no, no, I’m not too young m’am,” I reply with a forced smile and tilt of my head. She looked down at my id again, still confused by how fifteen was an age that one should travel alone through the city at. She handed me back the shiny card, smiling lightly.

  
“Who are you here to see,” she asked with her smile fading to a mere grin. I told her the name of my friend and her fingers clicked away at the keyboard connecting to the desktop computer stationed at the desk. She ripped a piece of paper off of a yellow notepad and scribbled what looked to be a room number and directions to the room. Seems that they moved him to a new room since last week. The woman handed me the parchment containing the information and waved me off.  
Another day, another visit. I normally came everyday after school, but I had been extra busy the week before now, and I hadn’t been able to visit my best friend for six days. I turned corners and went down halls that were all too familiar to me, seeing the same pictures of flowers on the wall that had always been there. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I reached his room, C405. I held up my hand to knock, but it just froze there, not moving, not a bit. Every time, I visit the person who means the most to me, I always fear it’s the last. And this cannot be the last. 

  
I pull my cap off, placing it gently in the oh-so-heavenly bag of warm, edible gifts. I hide the bag behind my back, planning to surprise my dear friend, and then lightly knock on the door. A nurse opened the door, blocking my view and asking for my identification. She checks my credentials and leads me into the room, shuffling out behind me.

  
Then, I see him. A small, frail body, sitting up in a hospital bed, blankets covering his legs, nose deep in a book that I didn’t recognize. The older boy, only by a few months I’d like to add, looks stunning as sun drapes over his body like a cape, pouring in from the uncurtained windows, revealing the look of Seoul in the spring.  
I walk over silently, hoping that he doesn’t notice me creeping up on him. I set my body down on the bed, treats still hidden, resting by my legs. The other boy looks over to me, a huge grin beginning to plaster onto his face. His smile glew brighter than a million stars, told more than words ever could.  
“Jisung, it’s been so long,” the boy whispers through his teeth, unable to break his smile. He leans over to me, reaching out for a bear hug, a signature sign of affection in our friendship, and I graciously accept his advance. Oh, how I missed these moments, where I could just hug the smaller boy until, well, an undetermined time limit.

  
“Chenle… it’s only been a week. Have you missed me that much,” I tease the other, even though we both know I’ve been dying just to see his shimmering smile once more. I watch as Chenle’s lips curl upwards once more as he draws back from the hug and sets his book onto the table alongside his bed. He gives a hearty laugh, one that’s big and bright, almost like a dolphin. All I could hear as the boy laughs at my, apparently hilarious, teasing, is the chime of bells. Almost like church bells on a Sunday morning, almost like the bell of a cat collar or sleigh bells. Whatever one could call it, it was a mix of all and it was the most beautiful laugh to ever reach my ears.

  
A sudden spurr of confidence, and anxiety to contradict myself (as always), rushes over my entire being like a tidal wave. Without thinking, I grab Chenle’s hand, softly yet swiftly, and I start to pour my heart out. I talk about school and the people who annoy me daily. I talk about how much I miss him, and how weird it feels without his flashy smile next to me in Chemistry. I talk about how I’ll never be the same if he can’t get any better soon, as two weeks ago his doctor told me his condition was getting worse.

  
My rant is interrupted by the waving of a hand in front of my glazed over eyes. I must have been starting to cry, how great. I snap out of my lost state and look at the boy in front of me, he’s wearing a lazy smile and his eyes are glossy, small tears running down his face, one by one at a slow pace.

  
“Jisung, you can stop now,” the boy mumbles, voice barely above a whisper. He looks down at our entwined fingers, a tear dropping onto my hand. I open my mouth to speak again but he hushes me. “I’m being admitted back home this weekend.” I hear a trembling voice squeak out, happy through the tears.  
I tilt my head, making an “o” with my mouth. Had I noticed that salty water drops were falling and soaking on the bed earlier, I wouldn’t be looking like a fool in this moment, and instead I’d be cooler than a cucumber. But me being me, my desired feelings never pulled through and always slacked on me, leaving me a blubbering mess of giggles, smiles, and tears.

  
I pull Chenle to my chest, the older boy grunting as I slam his form against mine. I mumble incoherent words as squeeze the boy harder, of which I probably shouldn’t do, but I do it all the same. His grunts turn into laughs, which eventually turn into coughs from the lack of oxygen. I let go of him, sneaking a peek at his recovering face as he smiles and pants, catching his breath.

  
Remembering the sweets I had brought, I pull the bag up from the floor and remove my hat from the top of the bag, placing it on the disgruntled cot. The smell of sweet bread floats into the air, creating a delectable aroma of vanilla and fresh bread. Chenle perks up, smelling the heavenly items that have taken shelter in the bag.

  
Not saying a thing, I reached into the bag and pulled out the sweet bread that I baked the day before. One by one, I pull out the sweet treats that I had made all for the older boy, hoping that he’d enjoy it throughout the week. Chenle took the bread slowly from my hand, putting it in his mouth and savouring the flavor. He smiles as he chews, a smile that reminds me of a baby when they’re content with their surroundings.  
The silence engulfing us two is strangely comforting, not awkward, but filled with an air of happiness. I pull a wheelchair out from the corner of the hospital room, wheeling it over to the boy. I help him into the wheelchair and give him the bag with the rest of the sweets, seeing as he’s already done with his bread, and grab my hat off of the bed. I wheel him up to the roof, Chenle complaining the whole way that he can move the wheelchair on his own, while I just smile and ignore his relentless whining. Opening the door to the roof, feeling the fresh, brisk air on my face, I breathe in deeply, happy that this isn’t my last moment with the older boy.

  
I push the chair over towards the edge of the building, to the point where we could see a small portion of the city of Seoul. I plop my hat backwards on Chenle’s head, and tell him he looks like a gangster, to which the boy lightly giggles at.

  
Throwing my head back, I listen to the other boy talk about anything and everything, voice sounding as sweet as bells. And that’s when I drift off, into a peaceful sleep up on the roof of Seoul National University Hospital, the chime of bells ringing in my ears every so often as the older boy laughs at his own jokes, seemingly happy just to have someone with him, even if that person is asleep. And I, Park Jisung, had never been happier than now, as deep sleep creeps closer and closer, and the bright bells slip into the back of my mind, leaving me pleased as I fall into slumber.


End file.
